Diary of Jane

 Disturbed                                                                                                                                                                                                                              19 Nov 1995

It has been two years when I got fettered to this marriage. Ever since the burden of this wedlock has burgeoned upon my finger. He did not want to beget with me so now only three of us live; my husband; Dr. Ed, Nancy, our house help and I. I am particularly not fond of Nancy, for I suspect my husband has affection for her, which is out of the bounds of marriage. He never lets her leave and she forces me to take medicines without negligence and treats me as a social pariah. I am constantly under CCTV surveillance when he is on duty at a nearby hospital. I believe he has connived to murder me and usurp my property with those pernicious medicines which I cannot avoid and at the same time cannot fathom any sane explanation as to why are they subscribed to me.

Enough! I shouted to myself. Ed, always punctilious to lock his paraphernalia while going to shower, tried everything in his power to eschew me to reach it. I suspected what he hid from me. Propitious to the vicissitude of my life he mistakenly kept the lock open one day.

I tiptoed to the drawer, with almost panting, timorous heart; my eyes ran impetuously through the documents while constantly keeping a tab on his movements in the bathroom. To my consternation, I found a file with my name on it, my heart congealed; it almost made me want to cry as I thought they might be the divorce papers. The shower had stopped and in seconds, he came out and noticed what I had found. He came running towards me snatched the file, threw it and hugged me to choke me and said while crying mawkishly,

“Please make peace with yourself!”

I struggled to extricate myself, screamed on top of my voice, and tried to get hold of the papers and tear them. I kicked him in the stomach and stretched my hand out to reach the papers. He crawled to my feet and pulled me down. My head hit the corner of the bed and I felt dizzy. The papers crumbled in the tussle and I passed out before I faintly read,

“ACUTE PARANOID PERSONALITY DISORDER”

Nobody talks to me now about what happened that day. I am done. This torture is at its zenith now.

I quit.

Jane.

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